Feeling Black
by LooneyLovey
Summary: 'As Hermione sat down, she felt a sense of unease drift slowly through the Great Hall, like a morning mist, creeping over every blade of fine grass which dared to cross its path.' Set in seventh year. In the process of updating/revising 07/07/12.
1. Feeling Alone

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

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Hermione Granger had been alone her whole life. Sure, Harryand Ron appeared to be her friends, but she liked to think of them as part-time friends; they used her for publicity, and they were only around her because they had to be, not because they wanted to be. Contrary to popular belief, they never wrote to her in the summer holidays, they never came to see her, and when they were in school they sure as hell didn't hang out with her if they didn't have homework to complete. They would rather play Quidditch, and hang out with their girlfriends than spend time with the '_Know-it-all'_.

Simply put, she was alone.

You would have thought that after six years of the same treatment, more if you counted the muggle schools that she had been to prior to Hogwarts, she'd have gotten used to it. But, how could you get used to it? How could you get used to being picked last, walking around by yourself, talking to yourself because you longed for the company of another without having to initiate the conversation?

The answer was six years, and Hermione was at her breaking point.

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Hermione Granger sat in the carriage to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with her mind for company. They hadn't long set off from the station and she had been glad to be away from the questioning eyes of her parents, and everybody on the platform. For a while, she had sat watching the countryside pass before her eyes, before deciding that reading up for the year to come was a much better way to spend her time. She had just started to her seventh year's potions text when there was a knock at the carriage door; she looked up and was surprised to find Professor Severus Snape standing on the other side of it. Why was he here? She thought.

Hermione motioned for him to enter and he did. After entering the carriage, he made a customary glance around the confined space before choosing to sit down in the seat opposite Hermione. It was only when he looked up at her did he realise something different about her, and while he was trying to recognise that difference he stared at her, as though she were a particularly interesting species of flubberworm.

It was hard to resist the temptation of starting back at him. Oh, she knew he was staring at her all right. As soon as his gaze had lingered on her a little too long than normal on her, she'd known. But Hermione knew why. Over the summer holidays, she had changed. Her choice of clothing in particular had changed; she no longer wore the ill-fitting jumpers and baggy jeans many expected her to wear, no, she now wore what she was feeling. She wore clothes where the primary colour was black. Hermione felt black. Now, many people would argue that you couldn't feel 'black' but you could, she was proof of that. It was a type of sadness, depression, and desperation, all at once.

Her hair had also changed. The colour had been changed to a darker, glossier brown, she hadn't been willing to go black just yet, and her hair had been permanently straightened. She'd also had her hair trimmed and had layers put in so it framed her face better than the big ball of frizz previously had. As for today's wardrobe, Hermione had chosen to wear a black top with sleeves that came down to her wrists and flared out slightly and she also wore a short black denim skirt with black ballet flats. Her nails had been painted black, charmed so they wouldn't chip, and a silver pendant with an emerald gem hung around her neck. The pendant was an important part of her, something that she would cherish for the rest of her short life, then bury.

"Miss Granger?"

He almost didn't recognise her. He had walked through the whole train looking for her before realising that he had already passed her, twice.

"Yes?" she questioned.

She had yet to look up from the book that she was reading, not fazed by the fact that her Potions Professor was sitting across from her.

"I would have expected you to be in the same carriage as Potter or Weasley?"

Her head snapped up from the book that she had been so interested in, only to shoot him one of his own withering glares.

"Obviously, sir, you are mistaken," she snarled, with as much venom as she could muster. "Potter and Weasley are no friends of mine."

After that final statement, she succumbed once again back to the land of knowledge. Had any student passed their carriage they would have fainted from shock at the sight before them; the dreaded potions master's mouth hung open like a gaping fish waiting for flies.

The Golden Trio not as golden as appearances made out then, he mused.

"Really, Miss Granger," he started, but stopped when he saw her flinch.

The girl in question looked up at him, but he cleared his throat and carried on, "Lovers tiff?"

Her gaze turned murderous and for once in his life, he was scared of eighteen-year-old girl.

"Someone once said, Professor, that if you have nothing nice to say," She slammed the potions text she was currently holding in her hands shut, got up and made her way towards the door. However, before she left Hermione turned back around to face him and yelled, "Don't say it at all!" The door was shut with so much force he was surprised the glass didn't break, although after letting his brain run off on a tangent, he realised that the doors would have been charmed so that they were unbreakable due to unruly first years.

At last, he had the carriage to himself. He felt a small tug on his heart about the way he had treated her, but brushed the feeling off as smug satisfaction.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

After their little tête à tête, Hermione made her way towards the direction of the toilets, determined not to let her Professors words get to her. As she got nearer to her destination she saw that it was engaged and swore, she desperately needed to be alone.

She could hear voices coming closer and closer, voices that sounded strangely enough like Potter and Weasley. Hermione was confused as to why they were down here; this was strictly Slytherin territory - not that it stopped her. At the end of last year, she had befriended Draco Malfoy and they had become quite good friends, but Potter and Weasley were not welcomed by anyone in Slytherin House, if seen by someone from Slytherin, they would be hexed.

She looked around for the nearest empty compartment but found none except for the one two doors away, the one that she had just come out of which was currently occupied by Snape. After having an internal debate on whether she'd rather be physically faced with Snape again than come face to face with _them _before it was necessary to do so, she made a quick dash for the compartment that she had just left, and once again slammed the door shut.

"Miss Granger, what a surprise to see you back here so soon!"


	2. Feeling Dark and Twisty

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

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After seeing the smirk resting on his lips she let out what she felt to be the only words suitable for dealing with this situation. "Fuck you, Snape!"

He looked up from his book, a cool facade of indifference masking his features.

"My my, Miss Granger has a potty mouth. Something very," he paused here for dramatic effect, as he did in many of his classes, before sneering, "unexpected."

"Let me re-iterate something for you, _Snape. _Fuck you, and fuck your condescending manner too."

Hermione could instantly see the change in his face, and wished she'd had the foresight not to still be stood by the door as she tried to antagonise him. He stood up from where he was sitting and towered above her, his customary sneer upon his lips.

"Miss Granger, you need to remember your place. I am a member of staff and I expected to be treated with respect. When we get to Hogwarts Gryffindor _will_ lose fifty points and you _will_ have a month's worth of detentions, with me."

His voice differed in neither pitch nor volume throughout his entire speech. In fact, his voice was no more than a mere whisper.

"Yes, _sir,_" she mumbled as he took his seat again.

Hermione sat on the seat opposite him and looked glumly out the window. She was desperately trying to ignore the man sat on the other side or the carriage, but it seemed that he wouldn't let her get off that easy.

"How selfish you are this year Miss Granger," Professor Snape stated, trying to get a rise out of her. After a few moment of silence, he could see a glint return to her eyes. It had worked.

"Selfish, sir?" Hermione's hands fisted in her lap, but other than that, she didn't outwardly react to what he had said, "I think you need to explain that accusation before I hex you."

"Well Miss Granger, threatening to hex a teacher for one." Neither of them turned to face the other, both steadfastly trying to avoid each others gaze. "Do you want any free time when you arrive at Hogwarts, or would you rather spend all of your free time down in the dungeons with me?"

"With _all_ due respect, sir, back off." Her wand hand twitched as she spoke. He smirked.

"If you really want to hex want to hex me, Miss Granger, what are you waiting for?"

It would have been interesting to see the know-it-all snap, but he noted - with some dismay - that she wasn't going to argue back. After ten minutes of silence, he reached into his long black traveling cloak and pulled out another worn, leather bound book - replacing the one that he had read back into his old travel cloak.

Hermione gave no outward reaction to his movement and just stared listlessly out of the window, listening to the sound of the worn pages of his book turn. After a while, she started to get restless and decided that it was time to go and see weather Potter and Weasley had left the Slytherin carriages yet, but just as she was about to open the carriage door the train came to a sudden, screeching halt.

The sheer force of the train stopping propelled her backwards, and the nasty potions professor had to catch her before she decided to get up close and personal with the floor. Somehow, during saving her from meeting the floor, he had managed to pull her onto his lap, not knowing what possessed him to do so.

As though it were rehearsed, they both turned to face the other at the same time. The shock was apparent on their faces as they realised that their faces were mere millimeters apart. His eyes followed her every movement, from her chest rising up and down to the lip that was caught between her teeth. It was too much. He growled, claiming her lips in a kiss that left them both breathless.

As the train jerked back to life, both occupants of the carriage leapt apart as though they had been burnt. Both Hermione and Severus scrambled back to the seats they had sat in only moments before. All thoughts of visiting the Slytherin carriages had been wiped from her mind, and as she tried to regain her mental facilities, she looked over at the man who had just kissed her. Hermione almost smiled. She had felt something. Something other than the blackness that plagued her and who cared if what they had done was wrong, when it felt so right.

Severus on the other hand wasn't as joyful as the woman opposite him was, as he was now stuck with a dilemma.

"That should not have happened Miss Granger," he said suddenly after some time had passed. "Please accept my sincerest apologies. It will never happen again."

For once in his life, Severus Snape didn't know what to do. He hadn't made it a habit to go around kissing random students on trains, so he was completely unprepared for when he saw the girl opposite him smile. It wasn't one of those forty-watt smiles she used to give to Potter and Weasley during her first and second year, but it was a smile nonetheless.

At that moment in time Hermione couldn't care less whether or not it would happen again, she was more concerned over the blossoming feeling in her chest. It felt like ... happiness. Well, at least what she remembered happiness to feel like; she hadn't really felt happy in years so she couldn't know for sure.

"Apology accepted," she mumbled, still trying to work out the mysterious feeling in her chest.

"And if you would, Miss Granger, forget that this ever happened?" There was a slight nervousness creeping into his tone, but he needn't had worried for she had yet to tear her eyes away from window.

"I can do that, Professor," Hermione said, still musing over her feelings.

"Good."

She was still smiling when she left to go to get changed into her school robes, but when she returned to the carriage the smile he had seen when she left, the smile that had absolutely no reason to be on her face after his rejection, was no longer present on her face. Part of him wanted to ask her what was wrong, what had bothered her so much to wipe the smile from her face. But he didn't. He hid behind his book and pretended to read while thinking about the female species, and how strange they were.

They arrived at the station and the professor practically ran from the carriage while trying to look imposing, not an easy feat. Hermione could have giggled at the sight of him, but the blackness was back and it didn't want to go away.

A knock on the carriage door startled her from her musings, but she covered the shock with a sneer.

"Oy! Granger, you coming?"

It was Malfoy.

"Yes, yes, one minute." She let the sneer leave her face while she concentrated on clearing her mind. It was a handy little skill she had painstakingly acquired during the holidays, after she had had read all the books for the next year cover to cover and had little else to do. With her mind cleared, she opened the carriage door to see a very irate Draco Malfoy running a hand through his golden locks. If anyone looked at his eyes they would have seen worry, sympathy and concern, all directed at her.

"Draco."

"Granger. Had a nice holiday?"

This was how they normally greeted each other, exchanging pleasantries to gauge how the other was feeling before slipping back into the easy banter that they had become accustomed to when talking with each other.

"It was ... normal. Yours?"

The word 'normal' meant something completely different to what it did years ago, she thought sadly.

"Father left the house a few times but other than that relativity quiet."

"Seen Potty and the Weasel yet? I thought I heard them before but I could have been mistaken."

He sneered as she said their names, and if asked why his answer would be that they didn't deserve the ground that they walked on, but he was never asked so he had to keep his thoughts to himself.

"Yes, they were near the rest of the Slytherin's on the carriage. I turned the other way."

His face softened, almost imperceptibly.

"Mia, you should have sent your patroness or something, I would have rescued you."

"There was no need to. I don't need a knight in shining armour thank you very much. I can take care of myself," she snapped. Draco could see that her run in with the idiots had shaken her more than she cared to admit, so he changed the topic.

"Were you by yourself for the whole journey?"

"No," came her short reply.

"Who did you share a carriage with then?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"Professor Snape."

He looked shocked for a moment before his Malfoy mask slid back on as though it had never left his face.

"Snape?" he repeated. Though he shouldn't have been surprised; his father had told him that Snape was going to be 'more involved' with what happened at the school. Draco had spent hours puzzling over what his father had said at the time, wondering what he meant, but it was only now that everything clicked into place.

"How was he?"

She looked up at him sharply, did he ... know?

"He was pleasant."

The blond boy in front of her let out a bark of laughter.

"Pleasant! How could Snape possibly be associated with a word such as 'pleasant'?"

She mumbled something that he didn't catch and looked up at him with something akin to disdain.

"We had better get off the train or else that oaf Hagrid will come looking for us."

Changing the subject, just like her he mused. Normally when a topic came up in their talks that she was uncomfortable with she would change the subject and pretend that she hadn't heard him. Over the years, Draco had gotten used to her little quirks but it still annoyed him greatly when she did it.

"Very well then. Off we go, though we're going to have to hurry if we want to make up for lost time."

Draco offered her his hand and she took it, but her body's reactions always betrayed her and he noticed that her palms were sweaty. Something had happened, and Draco Malfoy was going to find out what.


	3. Feeling Angry

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

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When they reached the gates to the castle, they were surprised to find Professor Snape standing outside waiting for them, and he most certainly did not look happy.

"Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you could explain to me why you and Miss Granger are the last two students off the train when everybody else is already waiting in the Great Hall?"

Hermione was about to make a witty reply, but Draco beat her to it.

"I was helping Hermione, Sir." Severus Snape's eyebrows rose at the comfortable use of her first name; so she was _friendly_ with the Slytherin then, he mused. "I helped her to get her bags off the rack; she's too much of a midget to reach them, Sir."

Brilliant Draco, absolutely bloody brilliant, Hermione fumed. There were at least three problems wrong with that excuse, and by the look on Snape's face he knew every single one of them.

"I see," the man drawled. "Tell me Mr. Malfoy, is Miss Granger a witch?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then, tell me Mr Malfoy, why didn't she levitate her bag with magic?"

Hermione sighed, sometimes Draco could be a real prize idiot, and at the moment, his appearance certainly made him look like one. His usually stoic Malfoy mask had cracked, and his mouth hung open as though he was a baby waiting to be fed. She could even see the panic in his eyes; way to go Draco, now the man thinks we've done something like had a quickie on the train.

"Mr. Malfoy, do shut your mouth, you are starting to look ridiculous."

Severus Snape scowled down at the blond haired Slytherin in front of him, sneering when the girl next to him opened her mouth in protest.

"I have neither the time, nor the inclination to be bothered by what you do in your own time Miss Granger, but as everybody in the Great Hall is hungry and cannot start eating until you two appear I suggest that you to make you way up there. Post haste."

For some reason he felt hurt. It was a strange emotion, one that he was not comfortable with at all. To cover his confusion over his emotions he sneered at the pair before him and turned on his heal, disappearing into the night.

Hermione turned to face Draco, her wand had twitching.

"Draco," her voice was sickly sweet, and he just knew he was in trouble, "tell me something. Do I have a voice?" He nodded. His palms were sweating. "Do I have a brain?" He nodded again; it was only his Pureblood which upbringing kept his face devoid of any emotion. "Tell me Draco, do I have a wand?"

"Yes." As soon as he had answered her, he wished that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

She had her wand out.

"So tell me, _Draco __Malfoy,_ why you wouldn't let me talk our way out of this mess? Now the man thinks we've done something stupid, something like having a quick shag on the train, if the holding of hands and the breathlessness is anything to go by!" It was so tempting to hex him, but she didn't choosing instead to hex the tree across from her. The tree that, unbeknownst to them, their potions master currently hid behind.

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The conversation they that started after he had left the area was, to him, quite intriguing. Miss Granger was correct in her assumptions of what he thought they were doing on the train. She had gotten all 'chummy' with his Slytherin's last year, and when the Gryffindor Princess and the Slytherin King were the last off the train; he had become suspicious. If he had found any proof of, as Miss Granger had so delicately put it, 'shagging' he would have docked so many points from her it would have sent them into the negatives before term had even started, a new record, and given her even more detentions than the ones she was currently receiving.

Alas, he hadn't found any proof; both their breathlessness and sweaty palms could be accounted for by rushing to the Great Hall, so he had resorted to sulking behind a tree.

He saw Miss Granger take her wand out with a flick of her wrist, and he smirked at the Malfoy boy's reaction; it was as if he hadn't been raised in a Pureblood family. Draco looked aghast, and his complexion had turned ashen. What he wasn't expecting though, was the hex that she flung at a tree, the same tree that he was currently hiding behind. Years as a spy had taught him many things: how to read people, how to deceive people, and how to get what people wanted with minimal effort on his part. However, as he was convinced that she was going to hex the Malfoy boy his reactions to the tree being blown up were somewhat delayed, resulting in blackness.

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Neither spoke after she had flung the hex at the tree. They were both silent for a few minutes; Hermione was trying with all her might not to hex the rest of the trees, and Draco who had decided that if he wanted to have children when he was older he would not disturb her, however as he was a Malfoy, he could only keep quiet for so long.

"Hermione … you blew up a tree!"

"Thank you for stating the obvious Draco," she snapped, smirking, and with a flick of her wrist, the mess had vanished. "See, all gone, nothing to worry you pretty little blond head about."

Her smirk could rival Snape's on a bad day, something that unnerved him slightly.

"We had better make a move Hermione before they send out a search -"

He was cut off by a sound. A sound that didn't sound human. They both whipped their wands out simultaneously; Hermione cast a shield around them both while Draco cast _Lumos. _They both made to move forwards towards the sound, but Draco put a hand out to stop her.

"Perhaps I should go first Hermione, after all I'm supposed to protect the helpless female," his usual Malfoy smirk rested his lips, but a faint tremble of his wand hand gave him away.

"And let you blow something up because your arm is shaking so much? I don't think so. Anyway, aren't you supposed to be afraid of nothing? You are a Malfoy, and you are a boy." Hermione pointed out unnecessarily.

"Yes, well, weird noises in the dark are where I draw the line. You never know what's out to get you in the dark."

Hermione knew what he meant, then again that wasn't something you thought about when there was the possibility of attack looming over your head.

The noise was louder this time, and they could both hear faint mumbling.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid."

As they had been in the dark for so long, their eyes had adjusted and they could now see a cloaked figure rise from the ground, and what looked to be an arm holding it's head. 'It' was mumbling something else but this time 'it' was incoherent.

It was as though they were stuck to the spot; all their previous training was fruitless, their brains turned to mush. They could see 'it' getting closer and closer but they could do nothing about it and had they been questioned afterwards they could have sworn that they were under some kind of spell.

"You do realise that once we get back to the school you will both get a month's worth of detentions, and yours will be added to the month you already owe me, Miss Granger," the voice growled.

Neither of them dared to breathe as the distinctive tones of the Potions Master met their ears.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The blast hadn't knocked him out for long, only a few moments, but it was long enough to make his head thump and his disposition turn sour. The blast had also made, momentarily forget why he was lying on the floor by a blown up tree.

He was brought out of his stupor when the bits of tree that were scattered on his cloak disappeared, and the piece that had lodged itself into his side had vanished. An involuntary groan came from his lips and he smirked as the two people arguing fell silent, but then proceed to start bickering again, at a much louder volume, this time about things that go bump in the dark. Had it been a bloodthirsty death eater or a wild animal they would have been dead by now ... had they not learnt anything at school?

"Stupid, stupid, stupid."

With energy he didn't know he possessed, he managed to force himself to get up taking out his wand at the same time and with a wave of his wand they were both unable to move or speak, that was until he released them. Every step he took felt like newly sharpened knives were piercing his side, but he had to make them realise just how stupid they were, and nothing told a pupil they were stupid like a handful of detentions from the most feared professor in school. He walked towards the opening until they could see his silhouette, but made no move to walk any further.

"You do realise that once we get back to the school you will both get a month's worth of detentions, and yours will be added to the month you already owe me Miss Granger," he growled.

Had either of them been able to move, they would have cringed, but as they were, they had both been frozen to the spot with one of his own personal charms, so they could do no more than breath and blink.

"Finite Incantatum," he dismissed the spell with a wave of his hand but they still didn't move the first wise thing they had done this evening.

"Mr. Malfoy, you will go up to the Great Hall and take your place at the Slytherin table." He dismissed the boy with a wave of his hand and turned back to the girl that now dared to smirk at him.

"Miss Granger, you will stay here."


	4. Feeling Frustrated

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

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Hermione Granger was _not _a witch to mess with; Draco Malfoy had learned that fact many years ago, back in third year when she had punched him. He also knew that if his godfather wasn't careful then he would find himself in a pretty dire situation. It was these thoughts that floated around his mind in his trek up to the castle.

"What do you want Professor?" she snapped, after she was sure Draco had left.

"Miss Granger, is that any way to talk to a teacher?"

"I couldn't care less _Professor_, and I believe that I asked you a question."

Any 'nice' feelings she felt towards him from their earlier encounter had vanished, something they were both acutely aware of.

"I would like to know why you blew up that tree, the same tree Miss Granger that you then proceeded to vanish, which then left a gaping hole in my side."

It was only then that Hermione looked down and saw a trail of blood behind the Professor. Ah, she thought, that was problematic.

"Hmm, well Professor I guess I have a new question."

"And what may that be Miss Ganger?"

"Why were you behind the tree in the first place, _Professor?" _She had him there, he thought, any other teacher would have gone up to the castle, assured that the student had listened. But not him, no, he just had to stay and find out what exactly they had been up to before his arrival.

"That, Miss Granger, is none of your business."

"I think you'll find it is, especially since that," she pointed down at his side, "needs to be looked at, and soon, judging by the amount of blood you are currently loosing."

"Damn it," the Professor said, then sighed. "Miss Granger, if it isn't too much of a trouble for you, would you mind closing the wound that you so graciously inflicted upon me?"

"I would," she said offhandedly, as though he were asking her to close a door, not the hole in his side, which was still bleeding. "Sir, may I ask you another question?" she asked, in a sickly sweet tone of voice , the same tone she had used on Draco only moments ago.

He was getting impatient, and the loss of blood wasn't helping things. What was it with her and questions tonight?

She carried on without invitation, "Why can you not heal it yourself Professor after all ... aren't you a wizard."

"Miss Granger," he hissed though clenched teeth, "if you do not close this wound-"

"Fine, fine! I'll close the damn thing, but after that, you let me go. No questions." He stared at the young woman in front on him, what was wrong with her, he thought. One minute she was happy and the next she was angry, there was something going on. Something more than losing one or two friends.

"Fine Miss Granger, just-"

"There. Done. See?" He felt his side where his clothing was torn; she had healed it, and it hadn't left a scar. What an unusual feat, even Poppy had trouble healing a wound without a scar, and yet the Granger girl had managed to so it with even breaking a sweat. How had she, of all people, managed it?

"Thank you Miss Granger. Now, we should be getting up to the castle."

"Hmph," was the only noise that can from her mouth before she proceeded to storm up to the castle, not caring that it was dark and there were still dangerous people out there.

"Miss Granger," he groaned. But she didn't turn back, nor did she stop, she just carried on up to the castle, blowing up random plants and small trees that dared to cross her path.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The familiar feeling of being watched settled over him, but being the Malfoy that he was, he didn't show the people watching him that he was aware of their presence. Instead, he carried on walking up the stone steps to the Great Hall, eager to sit, eat, and watch out for his friend.

"Hey! Hey, Malfoy!" The boy in questioned groaned and turned around, only to be met with trademark Weasley flaming red hair and the boy who lives to be a constant pain in the arse. Great, just great, he thought.

"What do you want Weasel?" he sneered, his Malfoy mask firmly in place for the first time tonight it seemed.

"Where's Granger? Lost her? Killed her? It's a shame, you know, I thought she would at least get some action, even if it were with someone like _you_, but guess what? Seems I was wrong."

The only indication Malfoy had heard what the Weasel had said was the slight rising of his brow.

"What is it with people assuming we had sex?" he mumbled under his breath, too low for anyone to hear him.

A few months ago, he made a promise to Hermione. He had promised never to hex the boys no matter what they said to him about her, as it would only get him into trouble, and she'd hate for that to happen. So far, he had managed to stick to his promise, but he had been mulling over breaking it for some time, surely one little curse couldn't hurt ... could it?

"What are you on about?" he said impatiently, he had no time for them. He was hungry.

"Everyone knows your just using her Malfoy; why else would you hang around with her?"

"Is that what you do, or used to do, I should say?"

"Of course!" Potter exclaimed, "She was never a _friend _to us. I mean, seriously, we only took pity on her because no one else would and she did our homework for us, and then there was the case of her parents, well … that just made things clearer for us. You know you shouldn't trust her Malfoy; she shouldn't even be in this school with all the things she has done, and will do. Dumbledore won't listen though; unfortunately he always seems to see the good in people. "

It was one of those moments you never wanted to happen. He had already been aware of, yet again, his Head of House's presence mere seconds before the Weasley boy began his tirade, but it wasn't his presence he was wary of. He could clearly see the outline of the witch in question in the near distance, and something told him she had heard every word said about her.

"_What_ did you just say?" The unique voice of Hermione Granger reached the ears of all four occupants of the hall.

They were in trouble now, Malfoy thought gleefully. He did note though, with some dismay that one of the four decided to slink off into the Great Hall. He had never known his Potions Professor to back out of a verbal or physical fight before. Curious, he thought.

"Remember what we said, Malfoy." Potter looked at him long and hard, as though he were trying to convey some unknown message, then turned to his red haired friend and said, "Come on mate, I'm starving."

The red head looked at his friend and mumbled something Draco didn't quite catch before they both gave him one last look and left. It was with their departure that Hermione and Draco were left alone once more.

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**Ideas? Opinions? What do you think will happen? Review and let me know. :) **


	5. Feeling Lost in an Alternate Universe

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

* * *

"Mia-"

"Don't, Draco, just don't," she said, cutting him off with a wave of her hand. "I'm going to eat dinner, find out where my room is located this year, and then go to sleep. We'll talk soon."

Those were her final words to him. As she fled the Entrance Hall for the austere atmosphere of the Great Hall, he allowed himself to feel pity for the person she had had to become. Though, if she ever caught him feeling such an emotion for her, she would hex him. That was Hermione Granger for you, well, the newer version.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

As Hermione sat down, she felt a sense of unease drift slowly through the Great Hall, like a morning mist creeping over every blade of fine grass that dared to cross its path.

"So this is what people now think of me," she murmured under her breath. "That I'm a person to be feared, instead of the friendly face you could come to ask for help with charms." With one final sweeping look of the Great Hall she continued, "Just as well. They would only get in the way this year."

As she had managed to miss the sorting ceremony all that was left to do was endure the old man's speech, pretend to eat something, and then she could sleep. She risked a quick glance up at the head table, and saw a certain Potions Professor looking down at her. They locked eyes for a moment, and he saw a glimmer of sadness creep back into her eyes, but as soon as it appeared, it was gone. He broke their locked gaze. A sad smile lingered on her lips.

Up at the head table Severus Snape was stumped. It was a known fact - though only to his closest colleges - that he could lip-read, and what he had just managed to 'read' from the girls lips did not make any sense. His mind left him demanding answers; what had happened to her? Why was she now feared? Why was she and Malfoy 'best' of friends? And, most importantly, why had he kissed her?

He had noted when she took her place at the Gryffindor table that she sat on the closest seat to the door. To him it symbolised that she was seen an outcast to the rest. No one sat by her, and no one seemed interested in engaging her in even polite conversation. It also seemed like a handy place to sit if one needed a quick escape, if the need ever arose.

Severus was curious now, more curious than ever. The trouble was that curiosity, especially for a spy, was a deadly weapon to possess.

"Severus?" the Headmaster pried, interrupting his in depth analysis on the seating position of Miss Granger.

"Yes, Headmaster?" he replied, through gritted teeth.

"I would like to talk to you in my office after dinner, if that is acceptable to you?" Dumbledore wasn't asking him if he would like to meet him after, no, Dumbledore was telling him he had to meet him in his office, whether he liked it or not.

"Of course, Headmaster."

"Good, good." He replied, more to himself than to Severus, then turned away to talk to Poppy about the medicinal properties of honey.

After the food had been cleared and bellies had been filled, the Headmaster decided that it was time to give his 'end of welcoming feast speech', something which Severus had little inclination to hear, but was obliged to stay for.

"Very best of evenings to you all," he began, "I have a few announcements to make before you all depart for the slumber express." Severus grumbled to himself at this; perhaps he should start monitoring just how many Lemon drops the old man ingested daily. "First of, I would like to inform you that as effect of immediately every student in this castle will be put under a strict curfew of 6pm each night, including the weekend." Severus could hear the elder years started to talk amongst themselves. Curfew was normally 9pm, not 6pm. Despite himself, this change in timetabling had spiked his curiosity. There was something going on; something, which by the looks of it, even Dumbledore was scared of, to feel the need to impose such a strict curfew on students when the one they already had was more than sufficient.

"Secondly, I would like to announce this year's Head Boy and Head Girl. For Head Girl, we have chosen Hermione Granger from Gryffindor, and for Head Boy we have chosen Draco Malfoy from Slytherin. Congratulations to you both, if you'd like to stay after everyone else has departed we will get some of the last minute details sorted out."

Both students were outwardly motionless as this announcement was made, and the only indication Miss Granger had even heard what the Headmaster had said was a slight bowing of her head.

The applause was dominated by the teachers, with only a few students participating in congratulating the Head Boy and Girl. He could understand the Malfoy boy not getting any applause, but Granger? The girl who had stood by Harry Potter up until, apparently, very recently. Maybe the talk with the Headmaster would clear up some very important details, details he was currently lacking thanks to his three month expedition to Egypt to collect some very rare – and costly – potions ingredients.

"One final thing before you leave," his voice had taken on a more sombre tone. "Hogwarts will be facing some rough times this year. It is advisable that you all stand strong in the face of adversity and plough through any problems you may have with people who will support you. Now is not the time to make enemies, now is the time for reconciliation and house for unity. Now, off to bed. Pip-pip!"

As the children dispersed into their houses; first years following the prefects and sixth and seventh years chatting amongst themselves, Severus could see the befuddled amusement upon the some of younger faces, and the grave understanding upon others as they spoke to other in their groups. What kind of world did they live in where children had to decode messages given from the Headmaster of a school at the welcoming feast?

His eye sought out the form of Hermione Granger, only to find her conversing with the very Slytherin he had found her with earlier that evening; Draco Malfoy. Rationally he knew they had to talk, after all, they were Head boy and girl, but that still didn't stop the wave of possessiveness he felt as the boy put his arm around her, and lead her to where the Headmaster stood, which coincidentally, was right next to him.

"Ahh Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy. I hope you've had a good summer?"

They both nodded. Granger piped up, "Excuse me, Sir, I was wondering if you'd show us to our rooms, you see I'm awfully tired, and I really would like to just sleep." Her voice sounded so innocent, he thought, and nothing like the voice he'd heard only hours before on the train; a voice wrought with so much despair and anger, not only for herself, but for the world she lived in.

"Yes, yes of course. But, could I sequester a moment of your time first?"

"Headmaster I-"

"Hermione, I really do insist. There are important matters that need to be addressed. You may bring Mr. Malfoy along with you, if that would make you feel comfortable."

She nodded tightly, "Very well then Albus. After you." The Headmaster nodded in acquiesce, and left. Severus did all he could not to gape in shock; even he didn't dare speak to the Headmaster as she had just done.

"Professor," she addressed him, "it would be wise of you to keep your mouth shut. You wouldn't want flies to find their way in there, would you?" A knowing smile lingered on her lips.

Just as she had done with Draco, Hermione swept off, leaving both the Potions Master and the Head boy standing side by side.

"She's not the same girl she was Professor," Draco said, seemingly out of the blue.

"What?" he asked, none too intelligently.

"Hermione's changed, but she won't tell me the full story. I know it has something to do with Potter and Weasley, but she won't tell me. I'll answer every question you have, just promise me that whatever happens up there isn't brought up outside of locked doors. She'll never forgive you if you do. You'd best follow them now. Hermione doesn't like to be kept waiting."

And just like Granger, he swept off.

He regained enough coherent thought to wonder if he was living in an alternative universe, one where students gave out orders, and a certain Granger girl intrigued him like no other.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"I don't see why _he_ has to know," Hermione exclaimed as soon as they were behind the warded doors of the Headmaster's office.

"Hermione, dear, if he doesn't it will make your position a lot more precarious."

"So be it!"

"You'd risk your exposure for the sake of one man not knowing?"

"Albus," she said, the unmasked pain evident in her voice. "Please don't. Don't make me do this."

"You have no choice Hermione! Either you tell him today, or I will tell him tomorrow. He has to know."

"Fine, so be it!" she repeated.

They stood, eyes locked with each other's for what seemed like an age, before a knock at the door startled them both.

"Enter Severus," he called.

"You wished to see me Headmaster?"

"Yes my boy. Please, take a seat."

"I'd rather stand-"

"I'd rather you sit, Severus," the old man insisted. It was then that Severus noticed the pain behind the blue eye. Pain, which he could have sworn was not there moments ago.

Severus noted that the Granger girl was standing mere meters away from him. She met his gaze with a steely determination before unexpectedly huffing, and moving to the window seat Albus had fondly built by hand one summer. She seemed to stare around the room for a few moments before turning to look at the window and getting lost in the rhythmic pattern of the quiet rainfall that now caressed the castle.

"Very well, Headmaster."


	6. Feeling Confused

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

* * *

_"You wished to see me Headmaster?"_

_"Yes my boy. Please, take a seat."_

_"I'd rather stand-"_

_"I'd rather you sit, Severus," the old man insisted. It was then that Severus noticed the pain behind the blue eye. Pain, which he could have sworn was not there moments ago._

_Severus noted that the Granger girl was standing mere meters away from him. She met his gaze with a steely determination before unexpectedly huffing, and moving to the window seat Albus had fondly built by hand one summer. She seemed to stare around the room for a few moments before turning to look at the window and getting lost in the rhythmic pattern of the quiet rainfall that now caressed the castle._

_"Very well, Headmaster."_

* * *

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

As soon as the Severus had settled himself into the seat opposite the Headmaster's chair – where Albus currently sat – the man in question turned to face Granger. "Would you like to start, Hermione?"

"No," she replied, shocking Severus. Since when did the Granger girl ever refused to answer a question?

"Hermione," Albus warned. Severus had only heard him use that tone of voice a handful of times before, and he never would have guessed he'd see Albus use it on a third of the Golden Trio.

"No," she repeated, steadfastly not looking in their direction.

"Don't make me ask you again."

A direct threat. Albus never made direct threats. It was at that moment Severus noticed the weather; he didn't usually notice the weather, but when it turned from light rain to heavy hail, one tended to take some form of notice.

"HERMIONE!" the Headmaster bellowed, after following Severus' line of sight.

"Fine. Fine," she yelled. And just like magic, the weather turned back to the light drizzle it had been before. "Fine," she repeated once more.

"She'll get angry if you carry on doing that, you know," Albus' voice was stern; it allowed no room for argument. It was only then that Hermione turned slightly to face them both.

"Oh I know," she said, smirking. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes that usually attributed with the Headmaster, and had Severus not known the Albus as well as he did, he would have missed the look.

"Hermione, what have you done?" Albus asked, seemingly resigned as to what was to come.

"Me … do something other than what I'm told? What are you talking about Albus? I would _never _do something like that." Her tone was so sickeningly false that Severus flicked his wand from its holder into his hand, wary of the - he was hesitant to call her – woman in front of him. "Oh, looky here! The big bad potions Professor has his wand out. Tut-tut, _Professor_, you wouldn't harm a _child,_" she spat that particular word, "under your care now, would you?"

Where had the woman from the carriage gone? And how had she turned into this … this petulant two year old? Seeing the Headmaster shake his head slightly, Severus flicked his wand back up into its holder. He would have to thank Minerva sometime; it really was one of the better presents she had given him for Christmas last year, there others were decidedly less helpful, and he had thrown them in the fire after he had done little more than glance at them. Muggle masturbation kits weren't really his cup of tea.

Granger turned back round to face the window, and Albus sighed once more, before looking at Severus. "She really is no danger when she's like this."

"What do you mean by 'when she's like this', Albus?"

"You can see it with your own eyes, Severus, her attitude, her mood, whatever you want to call it."

"You mean there's a reason, she's not just being bratty?"

"I can still hear you, you know," she complained, still sitting in the corner, minding her own business.

"Oh, we know, Hermione. We were just wondering when you'd like to come to your senses again … on second thought, maybe Professor Snape should talk to you for a bit while I pop out and ask the Elves for some food."

Food? What was the old man play at? They had just eaten! However, a look from the Headmaster stopped him from voicing his thoughts; there was that look in his eyes, that look which had driven him mad over the years, but a look he knew all too well. The look was an 'I know something you don't know' and it always managed to make him shut up.

"What would you like me to talk with her about, Headmaster? As you can clearly see she's in no fit state for any conversation."

"I said the mood of a two year old, Severus, not the mind. Good luck," he said, chuckling slightly.

What was he wishing him luck for? This was Miss Granger … wasn't it? But before he could ask what exactly the Headmaster had meant, he found that Albus had scuttled off somewhere. Presumably to ask Minerva to give him some more Lemon Drops. Some years ago he had taken it upon himself to order his 'delicious' candy, and Albus had 'accidently' (but Severus wasn't so sure it was an accident, no matter how much Albus insisted that it was) added an extra zero to the number of boxes he wanted. Consequently they'd ended up with over a hundred boxes of Lemon drops, which contained a hundred tins in each box, and fifty sweets in each tin. From that moment on Minerva had taken it upon herself to ration the amount of Lemon Drops Albus consumed per week, and if his demeanour during dinner was anything to go by it seemed that he'd already eaten his limit of fifty sweets for the week. It was only Monday.

A few moments passed before Severus realised he would have to be the one to start the conversation.

"Miss Granger," he started, he could see her startle when he addressed her, "the Headmaster wishes for us to talk. Perhaps you could start with why you are acting this way?"

"Miss Granger?" he repeated when she refused to answer. He knew that she had heard him; after all, he had seen her startle. "Miss Granger, I know you can hear me –"

"Hermione," her voice was rushed.

"Pardon?"

"It's Hermione, my name, it's Hermione." Her speech was more measured this time, the opposite of what it had just been five minutes ago. What was going on with Granger?

"I know that, Miss Granger, I've taught you for over five years now. Would you kindly answer the question?"

"Hermione," she repeated again, and though this time her voice was barely more than a whisper it was still measured. "Call me Hermione," she said, "and I just might answer you."

"Very well then." Severus had had enough of her childish games, however if she wanted him to play along to get an answer out of her well he was going to do just that; he wanted answers. "_Hermione_, would you be ever so kind to tell me why on earth you are acting this way?"

It took a few minutes, but she replied, "You know, Professor, there's no need to be patronizing." She seemed to be a completely different person now; there was no maniacal look in her eye, nor were there any indications of the petulant child she had been before. Turning to face him, she rose from where she was seated and walked over to a nearby bookshelf, fingers grazing lightly over the numerous spines the case held.

"Miss," he saw her raise an eyebrow, "_Hermione_, I am your teacher; I can speak to you any way I please."

"Ah, Professor, that is where you are wrong, I'm afraid. And anyway, I though you wanted answers?"

She came to a half before a shelve of books which contained endless tomes on the elements, not that Severus actively noticed, it was just a piece of seemingly miscellaneous information which had stored itself in his subconscious.

"I do," he grudgingly admitted.

"Then you'll shut up and listen, that is of course, when you ask me the exact same question, but with less … sass."

It was only his many years as a spy that kept him from sneering at the – now it seemed - woman in front of him.

"Hermione, can you _please _tell me why are you acting this way?" The question was said through gritted teeth, but it seemed to appease her for she smiled in an almost condescending way.

"See, Professor. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Hermione laughed, "No need to answer, I know it was."

Severus had to bite his tongue to keep himself from snapping back at her.

"Yes, yes, I know. Get on with it. Tell me why you've changed, and all that."

For all her bravado, Severus could see that Hermione was, for want of a better word, nervous. He had been counting and she had now run her hand through her hair five times in quick succession, and her lip had taken up permanent residence between her teeth. Giving her hair a pointed look, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's not easy, you know, being different. I've known, painfully so, for some while - ever since third year really that I'm _more _different than I could have ever imagined." Hermione sighed, and ran her hand through her hair again. "This isn't coming out right."

He shot her a look as if to say, 'you think', but kept his mouth shut. He had to know what she was on about, and if shutting up was what it took then he would reluctantly swallow his pride for the time it took her to make sense. That was if she ever planned to let any sound out of her mouth again.

Hermione had taken to pacing the floor, a favourite past time of his, and opening and closing her mouth at seemingly random intervals. Severus could see that she was at war with herself, he didn't have to be a Legilimens to know that, it was written as clear as day upon her face; her brow was furrowed, her hands were scrunched up by her sides, and she had taken to biting her lip again. Not that hard to deduce really.

He watched her for a few moments more before clearing his throat – he wasn't technically talking.

"What?" she demanded as she turned to pace the length of the office again. "Oh, yes. I was explaining, wasn't I? It's your fault, you know," she continued, clearly not expecting any response, "I'm fine, well, better, when I'm on my own. And then you and Albus mess it all up. You by being, well, _you, _and Albus by being crazy. I can't help if it his moods rub off on me. You should have seen it when he nicked a month's supply of Lemon Drops from Minerva's office that one time and then eaten the lot. Now that was a day. It took me a week to get rid of any residue feelings from that day."

The temptation to talk became too much. "Will you just make sense, woman!" he yelled, his patience snapping like a thin twig.

Hermione visibly jumped. "There's no need to yell you know," she said, scowling at him.

Taking a deep breath, she started her explanation once more, "I'm, well, I'm what you would call a one in a million," she laughed mirthlessly to herself, "I'm an elemental … with empathic tendencies."

And with that final statement, Hermione Granger was the only person ever to see the most feared Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry slump graciously from the chair to the floor in a dead faint.

"Oh hell."

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**A/N: I'm a bad FF author, I know. Honestly hadn't realised it had been that long as it's been a bit of a hectic year for me. However, I am writing the next chapter of this and hopefully by the time you've send me wondrous words of encouragement; it will be up … hint hint. **

**I jest. Seriously though, thank you all for sticking with this story, and thank you for all the lovely reviews so far; they really do help when I feel like deleting my account due to the shame I feel when I know I've so many on-going stories which are nowhere near completion. I promise you, dear reader, the stories will get finished, but I can't promise when. I have not abandoned anything on this site. It's just been a bad year. **

**Again, thank you. **

**Looney. **


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